


Made Of Glass

by GashouseGables



Category: Life and Death - Stephenie Meyer, Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Butch Eleanor, Cheating, End of Pride Month, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Friendship, Latina Rosalie, M/M, Making Up, One-Shot, femme Rosalie, top surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 12:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GashouseGables/pseuds/GashouseGables
Summary: I want you to know that it is not always easy to love me.That sometimes, my chest is a field full of land mines and where you went last night, you can’t go tomorrow.There is no manual, there is no road map, no help line you can call.My body does not come with instructions and sometimes even I don’t know what to do with it.This cannot be easy, but still, you touch me anyway.Rosalie is engaged, her brother's coming home, and he's bringing a new friend that makes her worried that for all her posturing, she might still be a little homophobic. Why else would Ellie make her feel so unbalanced?





	Made Of Glass

Rosalie was beat after a long day of cataloguing. It was hard being the only woman in the auto-shop; it left her desperate for a spa day. Royce hadn’t thought so; he hadn’t responded to her text about it all day. But this wedding stuff was weighing them both down; it was so much to plan.

Plus, Jasper had met someone at the bus station coming in that apparently got to stay with them for the weekend.

_Just arrived. Made new friend. Will be staying til Sunday afternoon._

She drove home, in her sweet black Range, at least mildly annoyed that the gay cowboy didn’t even ask her. He may pay half the rent, but he was so busy touring lately that Rosalie felt like the apartment was much more hers than his. She hated those artsy, intellectual types, excluding him. But she wasn’t like that at all; scholarly pursuits rarely took a hold of her. She _was_ methodical, logical. Figuring out a car’s engine was easy – read the manual, have a poke around; there’s no dissertation needed, it’s all laid out for you.

But Rosalie was still slightly annoyed at the thought of an unexpected house guests when she climbed the stairs and got inside.

There was talking, some laughing; it annoys her further. Rosalie wishes she kept her heels on, wishes she’d redone her lipstick after lunch. She always got like this when there were guests over; she felt sloppy otherwise. She knew it was her mother’s polished, career-housewife voice in her head; _dress for success_.

Rosalie didn’t let herself care, she took her time slipping out of her heels, sighing a little as she did. She padded into the kitchen, and saw Jasper first, back to her as he was sipping a beer. Leaning against the kitchen counter in daggy grey socks, his guest blocked behind him.

“Hiya, Cowboy,” Rosie all but purred at him. He doesn’t jolt or pause; just plonks his beer down and scoops her into a tight hug. It feels good; his shirt smells a little different, but his shoulders are the same, his arms are too. She was glad to have her step-brother back.

“Missed you, Duchess.” He told her quietly. She ignores how misty-eyed she is when they pull apart. But this is the longest they’d spent apart in a while. “Come on, Dutch. Meet Eleanor McCarty.” He says with a big charming grin.

Rosalie looks over as Jasper ushers her forward a little.

Rosalie looks at Eleanor and stares a little. Eleanor was big and broad, and Rosalie felt her heart skip a beat with confusion. Donned in a baggy pair of jeans and a plain white rolled up shirt. She had a friendly expression, extending a hand towards her. She had close-cropped hair, all curly, kind brown eyes.

“Hello, Rosaline, was it? I’m Ellie!” She declares, her big voice was more feminine than her appearance and it startled Rosalie a bit. This woman was some sort of tomboy; Rosalie felt a bit flustered.

“Rosa- _lee_.” Jasper almost sings as he corrects her, taking a swig of his beer. Rosalie takes her hand a bit too late but shakes hurriedly. Ellie’s palms were large and slightly rough and it makes her uncomfortable. Rosalie knows the handshake was too quick, but she felt a bit off-kilter right now. Ellie doesn’t seem to mind, sitting back with a smile.

“Get you a beer, Dutch?” Jasper offers, opening the fridge.

“I’ll have a glass of white,” Rosalie informs him primly, twisting her engagement ring on her finger. Thankfully, she’d gotten her nails done just the day before.

Jasper pours her a glass and slides it over to her. Rosalie takes a sip and focuses on letting herself be calm. Jasper never hid his sexuality from her. Archie Brandon was an effeminate ballet dancer that her brother had been seriously dating for what seems like ever. Rosalie had met all different kinds of Jasper’s friends.

Rosalie didn’t want to make this poor woman feel like a zoo animal, and she was worried she was staring. She didn’t have any prejudices, this intense, buzzing feeling in her skin couldn’t be because she was disgusted. She’d met other butch lesbians, after all. They were great, very nice. She couldn’t let herself be weird to this woman.

“How’d you two meet?” Rosalie asked Ellie, taking a long, luxurious sip, letting it fortify her. Ellie waited for her to put her glass back down before answering.

“Bus station,” Ellie informed her happily, “I was a bit turned ‘round and he call out and told me how to get to the hospital!” She said cheerily. Her accent was thick, like she was from Memphis or something.

Rosalie frowned. “Why did you need the hospital?” She pressed. Jasper said her name warningly, but she ignored him, because Ellie was free to tell her or decline.

“Jus’ a special check-up.” Ellie told her with a shrug, taking another sip of her beer. “That’s a pretty color.” Ellie said, nodding to Rosalie’s hand, holding her wine.

Rosalie smiles, switching her wine glass to her other hand to show off the rock. “24-carats.” She told her with pride. It was expensive, though of course Royce had the money.

Ellie nods once, lips pursed but not angrily so, but as though she was trying to not smile, and reaches over to just tap on Rosalie’s pinky. “Meant the nails,” she said, before giving a laugh, “but the ring’s mighty fine.” She adds.

Rosalie felt her cheeks flush but glared when Jasper laughed at her. “Thank you,” she said clearly, straightening her shoulders and working through the shame. “I love this colour pink.” She adds honestly, smiling gleefully at her nice new nails. She felt gratified that their guest had noticed, though. Royce already made her promise that the wedding was going to be blue-accented, for his Yale years. She was going to have to get a bridal manicure to match.

“Very nice.” Ellie said with a nod.

“I can take you to get yours done, if you’d like,” Rosalie said quickly, a little surprised with her own train of thought. But she could already picture Ellie in Rosalie’s usual nail spot, sitting and watching Rosalie get her fingers polished. The thought made her excited, doubtless because Rosalie loved doing little, girly things.

But her brain caught up with her quickly; she didn’t know this woman, or how long she’d be in the city. Ellie was shaking her head already, as well.

“Not my style.” Ellie told her cheerfully. That seemed the truth; Ellie’s nails were short and neat, and she had a rainbow sweatband on her wrist. Rosalie found herself examining Ellie’s hand; they were big for a woman. Her hands were thick; obviously, she worked some type of manual labor.

“ … call home.” Ellie was saying, and Rosalie glanced up, seeing her looking at her brother.

“By all means,” Jasper said, pointing out towards the living room. “Phone’s on the coffee table.” Ellie got to her feet and went over to pick it up.

Both blondes looked away to give her privacy as she dialed. Jasper met his step-sister’s eyes with amusement. “Thought you’d have a tantrum.” Jasper told her.

“What?” Rosalie asked sharply. She hated being accused of being a brat. She only had an attentive eye and tastes. It wasn’t so abnormal.

“Wasn’t sure you’d like havin’ a stranger in the apartment.” Jasper adds easily. She rolled her shoulders. She’d only just met Ellie, but Rosalie usually judged people quickly, and she didn’t find anything wrong with her. “But Duchess, she’s a big girl; looked real pitiful standing all lost in the station.” Jasper went on to explain. Rosalie thought Ellie was indeed big, she could only imagine the woman looking a little overwhelmed in a big bus station. “She’s from some tiny town in Tennessee. I remember when I was in a big Yankee city for the first time.” Jasper and Rosalie shared a smile; that city was New York, where their parents had met.

“Seems earnest too; I’m glad you like her.” Jasper told her. Rosalie didn’t bother denying it; Jasper could read people easily, and they were too close for her to fool him.

“Of course, it’s no big deal.” Rosalie told him, and she was sure she was being so lax because she had missed him. Usually she did guard her space viciously. “I’ll stay with Royce, if she’d like my bed.” Rosalie offered. Rosalie had a King bed, it would easily fit Ellie.

But Jasper just shook his head. “She can just stay on the couch.” He pointed out, and it was a futon. Rosie gives him a _look_ , though, because she knows Jasper doesn’t like Royce. “How’s the wedding coming?” He asked, sounding petulant under her almost-glare.

Rosalie shook her head. “Yeah, fine – oh my god,” Rosalie waved her hands eagerly. “So today, I finally got the boss to agree to turn the air conditioner down.” She said quickly, remembering her day at work.

Jasper nodded, looking amused. “Because you’re secretly a grandma ….”

“Shut up!” She snapped, but the heat in her tone wasn’t directed at him. “It’s because the temperature is perfect for men wearing full suits; and not a woman in a normal blouse!” She rages. She considered it a victory.

“Knock me over with a feather.” Jasper drained the last of his beer and squinted at the clock on the wall. “I gotta call Archie in a bit or he’ll not sleep.” He said, his voice soft. Rosalie found herself smiling as she nodded. She remembered the four years Jasper had spent at high school with her; the way he was so closed off and constantly tense and miserable. He was a different person now he had Archie. Though his mother told Rosalie that was how Jasper had been as a growing boy.

“Ellie, all good?” Jasper asks, snapping Rosalie out of her revere. Ellie was smiling quiet in the doorway, finished her phone call.

“Little tired.” Ellie replied with a grimace.

“Duchess, you mind settling ‘er in?” Jasper asked, but he was already heading into his old bedroom, throwing out a good-night over his shoulder. He was always tired after traveling, and she knew he’d be useless tomorrow. Rosie didn’t feel the need to answer him, just led Ellie through to the living room again.

“So we have a pull-out, and I’ll set it up while you have a shower.” Rosalie explained, getting a few sheets and a spare towel from the linen cupboard. Ellie looked surprised as Rosalie handed her just the towel.

“I don’t wanna be trouble, I’ll do it …” Ellie attempted to reach for the sheets, but Rosalie just side-stepped her.

“I’d rather get it done now.” Rosalie explained, not really wanting to be kept up while Ellie set things up herself. She opened the door to the bathroom and made a shooing motion inside. “Use whatever of my products you’d like.” She added, and while she usually loathed sharing, she thought it would be a little amusing if Ellie ended up smelling like tropical coconut. Amusing, and, probably nice. Rosalie felt like she wanted Ellie to be her friend, and it was a slightly foreign impulse for her. Rosalie had a nigh impenetrable guard up for friends.

Ellie grins while shaking her head though and drops down by a beat-up duffle bag next to an equally-abused suitcase. She unzips it and ruffles around. Rosalie leaves her to it, going to the couch and removing the cushions.

Ellie pulls out a camo-print zippered bag, and a neatly-folded handful of nigh-indistinguishable black probably-clothes.

She gives Rosalie a nod as she walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Rosalie had pulled out the couch and was smoothing down the sheets as the water turns on. That meant Ellie was showering; Rosie found herself idly wondering if the woman wraps her breasts; Rosalie hadn’t seen only the bare hint of a chest, though the shirt wasn’t loose by any means. The woman was incredibly muscular too; broad shoulders and arms.

She was so lost in her thoughts that her phone ringing made her jump a little, and immediately click her tongue and throw her head in irritation. She swiped it out of her purse, that she’d left in the hallway, and looks down at Royce’s name flashing on the screen. She picks up quickly.

“ _Hey baby,_ ” He purred over the phone.

Rosalie felt a flash of annoyance. “You haven’t replied to me all day.” She scolded him. She hated being ignored, though she had forgotten about her text until he spoke.

“ _I was busy, and I’m calling now. I miss you, do you want to come over?_ ” He asked, his tone deeper than normal. He was trying to be sexy, but Rosalie always thought it made him sound like a chain smoker.

Rosalie had an adverse reaction to the idea of going all the way to his apartment at this time of night. “No, it’s late, I’m tired.” She said, still snappy. They were engaged, and for all that Rosalie expected a text back.

“ _I can think of something that’ll wake you up. I’ll come over._ ” Royce told her, and Rosalie felt another flash of irritation that he didn’t even try and ask first.

“Don’t – my brother has a guest over.” She said quickly. The shower was still running, but she hadn’t finished making the bed and she was getting annoyed at this call.

Royce’s tone was immediately harder. “ _Didn’t know that fa – uh, he was here._ ” He said blankly.

Rosalie ignored the pause; he’d corrected himself, after all. “Yeah, he just got in today.” Rosalie explained. “He hasn’t mentioned you asking him to be your best man.” She pointed out. They hadn’t really talked about the wedding, but she knows it would be something her own brother would mention to her first.

Royce lets out a gust of a sigh through the phone, and it crackles harshly in Rosalie’s ear. “ _Babe, I thought we talked about this-_ ”

“He’s my brother!” Rosalie snapped, feeling a real flash of anger now. Royce had all but told her that because Jasper was ‘only her step-brother’ that he thought he could choose his all his groomsmen out of his fraternity friends. “I don’t want you standing next to Steve, who keeps staring at my tits! You’re asking him, and you’ll do it before he leaves!” She ordered. She had every right to make him do it; she was the one who had to have his idiot childhood friend Lauren as her maid-of-honor, after all.

“ _God, okay …. I gotta go._ ” Royce’s tone was bored. “ _I’ll talk to you tomorrow – think about me, ok?_ ” He asks lightly.

“Think about me more,” Rosalie purrs back in response. She loved that kind of attention, after all.

“ _Don’t be full of yourself,_ ” Royce laughed, teasing, “ _night._ ”

She hung up, feeling drained and heavy. It could get hard to talk to Royce when she felt like he wasn’t listening to her.

“Um, hey,” Rosalie spun around. While she’d been on the phone, Ellie had finished showering and was looking slightly awkward. She was donned in a black singlet and boxer-shorts. Rosalie stared down at her calves; they were huge; like she played basketball or something. “Would you feel more comfortable if I wore sweatpants?” Eleanor asks. Rosalie snaps out of her staring and looks up to see Ellie looking mildly concerned.

“No I wouldn’t,” Rosalie says honestly, and walks past her to finish the bed. She was slightly annoyed that she hadn’t made it in time for Ellie to finish her shower. Ellie trots behind her until she can drop her clothes on top of her duffle as Rosalie quickly fixes the sheets. Rosalie glances over, sees Ellie carefully tucking away what looked like a boob-tube with several hook-and-eye clasps.

Ellie met her gaze and Rosalie ducked her head quickly; because she realized in that second it had been a binder. “So, um, if you need anything, I’ll just be in my room.” Rosalie says, and Ellie sits on the futon and smiles up at her.

“Thanks for this.” Eleanor tells her.

Rosalie nods once and bids her goodnight, going straight to her room and closing the door. She felt a bit strange; looking at Eleanor for too long made her chest feel wobbly and uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure why she’d react like that; she really wasn’t prejudice, that she knew of. She was a little disappointed in herself that she was feeling so uncomfortable.

Annoyed with herself and even more bothered that she left her wine outside instead of bringing it in with her, Rosalie feels a little too awkward to go out and fetch it. She just decides to start dressing for bed and trying to sleep early.

There was a knock on the door, just as Rose was slipping on her favorite pajama suit. She opens it, and Ellie is there, smiling with her wine glass balanced in her hands.

“You forgot this!” Ellie chirps, and then her smile fades as she takes in Rosie’s dress. “Unless you didn’t want it ….” She added uncertainly.

Rosalie was elated though and takes it quickly. “No, I did! Thank you!” She says, genuinely pleased.

Ellie goes back to smiling, her substantially flat chest puffing out, and shrugs with one shoulder. Rosie thought it was sweet that Ellie was obviously so pleased with helping.

“It was really thoughtful of you,” Rosalie continued, and found herself grinning as Ellie shrugs faux-casually.

“It was no problem; did you need anythin’ else?” Ellie asked. Rosalie was struck by the ridiculous earnestness of being asked that by a guest in her own home, and laughs lightly.

“I should be asking you that!” Rosalie pointed out, and Ellie grins again, but she seems bashful. “Is the couch alright?” She asked instead.

Ellie nodded once and took a half-step back. “It’s great – have a good sleep.” Ellie said, and Rosalie wished her the same before closing her door.

When Rosalie woke up, she was shuffling towards the kitchen when she remembered her guest. She glanced over, seeing Ellie on her back, feet swinging off the edge of the futon slightly. The woman was still fast asleep, breathing deeply with an arm flung above her head.

So Rosalie tried to make her plunge-coffee as quietly as possible, but her morning peace was shattered when she checked her phone; and saw a message from Royce from 3 AM.

She dialed, furious, and tapped her foot until he picked up. “ _Royce!_ I said no strippers!” Rosalie exploded. “I can’t believe you – _no_ , you should have told your stupid frat brothers that I said no strippers! It’s _entirely_ your fault! Oh my god, I’m not arguing about how you just don’t care what I say!” Rosalie ended the call, and wishes she had one of those landlines with the curly phone cords to slam into the receiver. A cute pink fluffy rotary dial one with pink crystals on each number hole.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by a shuffling at the door. Ellie looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Um, everythin’ alright?” The woman said uncertainly.

Rosalie was sure she’d be embarrassed under most circumstances, but in her own sustained anger she felt nothing else. “I have the worst fiancé in the history of the world.” Rosalie informed her heavily. “I’m going to shower. Help yourself.” Rosalie mentioned vaguely around the kitchen as she goes to her room and tried to calm herself down planning her outfit for today. She’s only lucky it was the weekend; she’d loathe to be at work in her current mood.

She felt annoyed all over again. Royce was always acting like all of her ultimatums were negotiable. Like his wheedling would ever overcome her stubbornness. To quote the great Cher Horowitz; _As if._

She'd _already_ made concessions; they weren't even going for a marriage interview, or to a Catholic church, and her avó had been furious. Nothing else was going to stop her, in her beautiful, couture wedding gown, walking down that _goddamn_ aisle, _exactly_ as _she_ pictured it.

When Rosalie was rinsed and dressed, she felt a hell of a lot more vindictive than when she came in. Ellie was changed into a black t-shirt and jeans, and putting a wet plate on the dishrack.

Rosalie was momentarily grateful her guest was cleaning up after herself, and grabbed her handbag, double-checking she had her keys. “You have any plans today?” Rosalie asks her.

When Ellie shakes her head, Rosalie beckons her to follow. “Then c’mon; he’ll probably come around here to cry and whine at me.” She says with a sigh. “Let’s go out.” After she’d spoken, she realized how bossy she sounded, and cringed a little as she looked up at Ellie.

Before she could add a contrite ‘ _if you’d like_ ’ Ellie was nodding with a smile. “Okay; I’d like to have a walk.” Relieved, Rosalie checked her e-mails as Ellie sat on the floor, lacing up her boots.

Ellie looked up at her, “What’s on the agenda?”

Rosalie huffed as she tucked her phone back in her purse. “Well, I wanted to get my eyebrows done, and I have to pick up a few files my boss decided to do at home.” Rosalie explained. “You wanna see where I work?” She asks.

“Uh-huh!”

Ellie hisses with sympathy as Rosalie gets her brows threaded. “That looks painful!” She said with pity. Rosalie huffs out a laugh in agreement; Ellie was sitting on a little stool in the corner as the beauty tech worked.

“Maybe you should try it.” Rosalie suggested. Ellie immediately disagrees, and, mischievous, Rosalie cajoles her with a high, wheedling tone. “ _Oh please, please please …._ ”

Eleanor wrinkles her nose but starts to laugh. “ _Fine_ ,” she relented.

Rosalie mentioned for the technician to use the tweezers. The tech plucks three hairs in between Eleanor’s eyes, until she begs off with her eyes tearing up.

“What kind of woman can’t stand a little plucking?” The technician sniffed with distain, looking over Ellie, with her boots and meaty arms. Ellie ducks her head with embarrassment. Rosalie informs her briskly that she was ready to pay.

Eleanor seems a little chagrinned at the tech’s words, and Rosalie feels bad. She tries a smile and gets a tissue out of her purse. “You were really brave,” Rosie teases her, wiping under Ellie’s eyes. Ellie giggles a little, and then clears her throat. Rosalie finds Ellie trying to affect a tough upper-lip really endearing.

Rosalie thought the technician’s attitude was abysmal, so she doesn’t tip, even though she usually does. The tech seems oblivious or overcompensating, being sure to perkily invite them back next time.

“Let’s grab something to eat.” Rosalie told her. Ellie seems a little quiet, still, so Rosalie slips her hand over Ellie’s elbow, walking in step with her. Like a couple of girls out shopping. “You wanna pick the place?” She offers.

Ellie seems cheered by that, leading Rosalie to a small bar.

Rosalie sat in the booth and watches Eleanor read the menu. This woman was nice, very easy-going, and while she was broad, Rosie realized she tucked her hands in a lot; clasping her hands in front of her and pulling her shoulders forward when they had to squeeze by another pedestrian, or if there were someone’s ratty kids running underfoot. Considerate, Rosalie realized after a beat, Eleanor was considerate. Rosalie felt a little bad, after she cooled off, to have Ellie trailing after her.

“Thanks for coming with me, I kind of rushed you.”

“It’s fine, thanks for taking me out! I haven’t got any friends here, so no plans. It’s a nice city, though.” Ellie says cheerfully, beaming up at the waitress as she comes by. It doesn’t surprise Rosalie that the woman orders the steak and potatoes with a beer on the side. Rosalie orders the chicken salad and an iced tea.

“Where are you from, again?” Rosalie asks after they hand the menus over. “Memphis?”

“Tennessee, this place called Gatlinburg, in the mountains,” Ellie corrects her with a shrug.

“Mountains; good skiing there?” Rosalie asked her. Her father took them skiing on their family honeymoon; Jasper usually tromped around for a half hour in the snow before going back inside.

“When it snows.” Ellie agrees. “This is the farthest I’ve ever been from home.” She admits, looking of all things excited. “Guess I’m a hill-billy. I work at a meat-packing plant; supervisor. The second woman to do it.”

“That’s awesome.” Rosalie said, and she really meant it.

It seems Ellie realized it, and she blushes a little. “What do you do?” She asks quickly. “Why’s your boss got work at home?”

Rosalie hummed, flipping her hair to the other side to accept her iced tea with a muttered thanks. “I work in shipping, in an auto parts warehouse.” Rosalie explains, her sigh gusting through her noisily. “Lots of days on the computer, filling out forms and on the telephone. I only got the job because my father has a friend.” She added with a shrug.

Ellie nodded. “But that sounds good, family’s gotta take care of family.” Ellie assures her. “My daddy is a mechanic, but he couldn’t take me on to the shop because there’s not a lot of jobs around.”

Rosalie perked up. “So you like cars?” She asks eagerly.

“Not that mechanic; it’s mining equipment mostly.” Ellie explains, scratching the back of her neck. “Though the mine ain’t doing so good.” She seemed down, for just a second, until her bright eyes meet Rosalie’s again. “ _You_ like cars?” She asks.

“ _Love_ them.” Rosie gushes. “Jasper’s mother, my step-mother, her good friend runs an auto-shop in Austin. I go down there to poke around when we visit.” She explains.

Ellie hums at that, nodding slowly. “Jasper and you don’t look too alike.”

“Yeah, his mom married my dad when we were in middle-school.” Rosalie says. There’s another pause as they get their food, Ellie thanking the waitress with a cheerful 'ma'am', and begin to eat.

“Did you get to be flower-girl?” Ellie prompts. “At the wedding?”

Rosalie shakes her head. “Maid of honor; Jasper was best man. It was kind of cool; my mami passed away six years before that giving birth to my little brother, but he didn’t make it either. It was nice having a sibling after so long.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I was young.” Rosalie feels embarrassed, just a little, having brought it up, and clears her throat. “I know Jasper’s dad died in the Middle East; once he spat on a military recruiter at school. He hates soldiers, but I think don’t ask, don’t tell kind of made him mad. His mother stays in bed on Veteran’s Day; back in Jasper’s hometown, they’d try and bring her pie. Widow’s pie, he called it.”

After that, they both concentrate on their food.

Tanya opens the door, and she’s cheerful enough. “Rosie! Thank you for coming around on your day off,” Tanya trills, leading them both through to the foyer. “Millennials are usually so particular about their days off.” She continued airily.

“Yeah, sure,” Rosalie mutters, glancing around and hoping she wasn’t about to see some dude’s random dong. Tanya was usually so particular about taking home male models.

Tanya pointed out the dark brown box on her coffee table. “It’s just this one.” She says, and mentions to Ellie. “Maybe your friend can carry it for you; he seems strong.” She added.

“Not a he, but okay.”

Ellie steps over and picks the box up easily; it wasn’t particularly big, and Rosalie probably could have done it herself. She felt a stab of worry as Ellie’s face remains seemingly calm.

Tanya, though, laughs loudly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell.”

Rosalie ushered Ellie out the door in front of her “Thanks Tanya!” Rosalie chirps. “I’ll be sure not to tell George you took documents off the premises.”

“Oh my god, don’t even joke!” Tanya teases at the door as she waves them off. “He’ll kill me!”

Rosalie watches Ellie tuck the box into the back seat, and they climb into the car in silence. As Rosalie drives towards work, she makes a squeaking noise that annoys even her. “Sorry about Tanya,” Rosalie says. “I would have said something, but she’s my boss ….”

But Ellie shakes her head, rueful, if anything. “It’s fine, nothin’ I hadn’t heard before.” She says quietly, but it makes Rosalie sad. Suddenly, Ellie’s face lit up, and she reached up and turns up the radio. _Island In The Stream_ crooned louder. “ _Oh_ , I love this song!” Ellie says excitedly. “I had a big crush on Dolly Parton when I was a little girlie.”

Rosalie finds herself smiling as Ellie wiggles in her seat, dancing to the music. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Ellie gasps. “She’s everything I wanted; always dressed, looking all dolled up! I used to sing Kenny Rodgers’ parts and wait for Dolly to sing back to me,”

“That’s adorable.” Rosalie told her honestly. And it did sound cute to her. Rosalie thought back to her own crushes. Her first had been Leo in _Titanic_ , obviously. After that she got caught up in _Gossip Girl_ and all her friends thought the boys were so sexy. They’d squeal over them in high school.

Rosalie pulls up to the staff parking lot, and Ellie agrees to come up. It’s a big monster of a building. Rosalie parks underground, but Ellie asks nicely to take the stairs, as the elevator was a dinky thing and that made her nervous.

Rosalie felt bad about how sorry Ellie seemed, so they both took the stairs three flights up to where Rosalie worked. Where it was all computers and desk-jockeying.

The actual trip is pretty quick, though; Rosalie drops off the files in secret, while Ellie wanders. She comments that the pot plant needed watering, and that their Christmas party flyer was crooked. Rosalie glanced over to see Ellie carefully repining it straight and nodding to herself when she was finished.

Jasper has the cocktail shaker out when they get back in the later afternoon. Its presence makes Rosalie bite back a smile – there was only one person Jasper was willing to make cocktails for. “You two have fun?” He asks them cheerfully as they walk in.

“ _Yes_ ,” Ellie called as she untied her boots, “your sister showed me around!”

“Cool,” a voice chirped as the bathroom door closed. Archibald Cullen sauntered up to them, grinning widely as Rosalie threw an arm over his shoulders. “She can take you to all the boring places, and tonight we’ll take you to all the gay places!” Archie tells Ellie, who looks down at the little man with a bemused smile.

“Hi Ellie, I’m Archie!” He sticks out a hand, and they shake. “My mans has already told me all about you!” He added, throwing a wink over to Jasper.

Ellie nods, and Rosalie was sure Jasper had already regaled her about his guy within probably the first five minutes they met. “Nice ta meet you!” She says. “The Mississippi Man!”

“ _My_ Mississippi man.” Jasper agrees quietly, kissing Archie exactly when he proffers his cheek, and hands him something vaguely blue.

Rosalie was wandering to the kitchen to inspect the alcohol laid out on the counter. “Clubbing?” She questions, and claps her hands with excitement. “I wanna come.” She declared – it had been _ages_ since she had been out.

Jasper scoots past her to get beers, and hands one to Ellie as she asks him what they wore out in the city.

“Thought you had to ask Royce first.” Archie teases. “Isn’t that what he said? When you were picking out your bouquet?” Archie prompted; putting a finger on his chin, his voice high as though he was just oh-so-innocently wondering aloud.

Rosalie looked uneasily at Jasper’s suddenly stony expression, and felt a flicker of annoyance. No doubt Jasper would harp on her about this later.

Rosalie put her hands on her hips. “He _did_ tell me that, and, if you’ll recall,” she said, clipped, “ _I_ told him where to shove it.”

Archie dissolved into a peal of giggles, but Jasper still has a tightness around his mouth that Rosalie will be _very clear_ she expects Archie to sex away later.

But for now, Archie has red cheeks and a big grin on, as he slaps her ass. “Get dressed and get the whiskey!” He declares.

Rosalie was sipping a Cosmo at the bar when she remembered she was going to tell Ellie the funny joke her co-worker Angela had told her. Angela had told her twice to teach her, because Rosalie was working on her humor skills. A lot of times her jokes came off as really bitchy.

She eagerly looked over to try and spot Ellie. She saw her in a corner, and felt her whole body go cold.

Ellie was grinning cutely, chest puffed out, as a small girl with her hair piled high groped her elbow. Her bicep, Rosalie realized numbly. She felt something hard pressing against her chest, causing her to lurch upwards, shouldering through the crowd to get to them.

“Ellie!” Rosie yelled quickly, regretting how accusatory her tone was. Ellie jumps a little at her name, and she grins at Rosalie.

“Hiya, Dutch!” Ellie calls, putting on arm on the curly haired little girl. “This is Jessica, she was asking me where I worked out.” Ellie introduced them, and Jessica giggles, leaning against Ellie, just a touch.

Rosalie forcibly relaxed her glare, but she had a deep urge to keep Jessica away from Ellie. Rosalie was sure it was the story Ellie had told her last night making her protective of the girl.

“Ellie I was hoping you’d walk me to a taxi?” Rosalie said, ignoring Jessica entirely as she looks solely at Ellie.

Ellie looks a little taken aback, but she gives a little chagrin smile with a nod. That's all Rosie cares to stick around for, she turns on her heel and marches out of the club.

She waits outside for Ellie, but after a moment she regrets it. It's a sport night, people, mostly men, were out loudly with matching jerseys. Rosalie felt a slight ripple of fear shoot through her, and shrinks to the side.

“Hey, you look lonely …” A man calls out, practically being carried with his arms slung around two other men’s shoulders. One of them was texting and the other was lighting up, and neither of them told their friend to cut it out.

Rosalie tried to find her voice as the plastered man swung the trio closer to her, but her words were stick in her throat, though she felt her own lip curling in mounting disgust.

“She isn’t - as you can see she’s got all the company she needs.” Ellie’s voice rang out over Rosie’s head. Immediately, Rosie felt safe, feeling the heat from Ellie at her back made her braver. Rosalie stamped down the urge to let herself cower against Ellie’s chest, and held her chin up high to stare the men down. The other two had looked up when she spoke, and Rosalie was proud for Ellie’s sake when she saw the man’s phone go slack in his hand as he mouthed ‘wow’ while looking up. No doubt he could see how powerful Ellie was.

“Fuckin’ dyke,” the middleman spits, which snaps both his friends out of their stupor, and they mutter some kind of apology while they drag him away.

“That’s right!” Ellie calls after them, a laugh in her voice.

Rosalie let herself lean back against Ellie when they were gone around the corner. A touch to her right side, so the hand that Jessica groped came up to steady her shoulders

“A’right duchess?” Ellie asks, brow furrowed, and Rosalie wants to shake out her hair, cover Ellie’s arm with her locks and brush away where Jessica had touched.

“yeah, I just don't feel good,” Rosalie muttered, and that was true. She felt kind of sad and upset. She didn't like Jessica, and while Rosalie knew her first impressions usually stuck: she couldn't pin-point why Jessica irked her. That wasn't a problem she normally had. _I’m just over-protective now_. Rosalie reasoned. After all, Ellie was new to the big city and while she didn’t seem naive, that didn’t mean she was used to city-life, or city girls.

But Ellie just pets her shoulder before letting her go, and heading toward the taxi rank. Rosalie follows, just a beat behind her.

Some of the clumps of jerseys glance over at Rosie, and then Ellie, and then turn their heads away. Rosie had noticed that often; men just didn't like looking at Ellie, some women too. It made her feel … better than them. She couldn't _stop_ looking at Ellie, half the time she had to rip her gaze away. Rosie knew she was superior to them, after all, Ellie was always looking at her too.

Ellie was always looking at her, Rosalie realized with growing dread. After all, she was engaged, to a goofy rich guy that gave her a honking big diamond. Besides, Ellie was looking for Dolly Parton, gay Dolly Parton.

Rosalie made sure to be looking elsewhere every time Ellie glanced back at her out of the corner of her eyes, with that easy smile.

Ellie was still a touch over tipsy, humming ‘Islands in the Stream’ with her hands stuffed in her pockets. Rosalie tried to hum along with her, but she wasn't feeling half so chipper.

She kept replaying that scene in her mind: Ellie, laughing with pink ears, as that woman, Jessica, felt up her biceps shamelessly. Rosalie felt so guilty for being as disgusted as she was, and she was focusing on how nice it felt to be walking with Ellie now. She really thought she wasn’t homophobic, and she wasn't sure why she was going backwards.

“I’m sorry for taking you away from,” Rosalie muttered, feeling her stomach twist and breathing through it, “the club.” she settles on. She just couldn't bring herself to feel sad for taking Ellie away from Jessica.

“Of course! Anything to help!” Ellie chirps. Rosalie smiles, but it feels wooden. The dread was still in her though. She couldn't let Ellie continue to look at her like that, it just wasn't right. Rosie was obviously in need of reworking her biases, and Ellie needed some nice, soft girl to take care of her. And Rosie needed Royce, and her wedding and being a bride and her honeymoon. After all, ever since she saw Princess Diana sitting on the diving board of a yacht in her bright blue one-piece, she knew exactly what her goals were. Being a gorgeous woman on a yacht in a bright blue one-piece.

“Here we are!” Ellie declared, standing under the taxi sign. Rosie looked at the big sweet woman, hands tucked into her pockets.

“Ellie, you should …” Rosalie begins, but even as she’s speaking, she can’t think of how to voice her feelings. “You're really very nice,” She says quietly.

“Thaank you, you too!” Ellie chirps at her. Rosie felt panic claw up her throat. Because Ellie looked so flushed and content.

“But I think it’s for the best if, after tomorrow, you head back home.” Rosalie said numbly, as she felt almost as if her mouth was disconnected from the rest of her.

Ellie cocked her head to the side, and frowned. “Oh … yeah, okay,” She said, ducking her head and nodding just slightly, scratching the back of her neck. “I don’t mean to overstay my welcome ….” She muttered.

“It’s just,” Rosalie felt awful for making Ellie look so sad, and all but threw up her hands. “You’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” She asks bluntly. Because she knew exactly what it looked like when a man found her attractive. Not that Ellie was anything like that. If anything, Rosalie was much more comfortable with Eleanor’s desire than any man’s, mostly because the woman was such a huge sweetheart. But it didn’t change the fact that Rosalie had a ring and the man that came along with it. Ellie tellingly flushed all the way to her ears.

“You’re my type,” Ellie agreed quietly, glancing down the street, “but it’s not like I’d try and make a move.” She said, her voice sad and, for once, small.

Rosalie shook her head. “It’s not that,” she said briskly. “I’m just engaged and it’s not appropriate.” She said. Because she loved Royce, and she was engaged to Royce.

Ellie looked like she’d been slapped in the face. “I’d never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.” The large woman said, intense and raw.

Rosalie felt a little lost in such earnestness. “I know you wouldn’t, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” She said quietly. She felt bad for Eleanor, a little; Rosalie was straight, after all. Eleanor should be attracted to a nice, gay girl. Which Rosalie wasn’t.

“But you aren’t comfortable with me.” Eleanor said sadly, as though she was defeated. Rosalie didn’t say anything, because the truth was that Eleanor did make her a little nervous. “It’s, well, no helpin’ it. I’m sorry.” Ellie said, looking Rosalie straight in the eyes with such guilt Rosalie felt her own stomach roll dangerously.

“Don’t apologize.” Rosalie said, dropping her gaze and focusing on the door handle of a cab that had pulled up. “I’m going home ….”

“‘Kay, get back safe.” Ellie whispered, and Rosalie climbed in the car, gave the driver her address, and cried quietly until she was climbing into bed. She ends up crying herself to sleep and being dead to the world in the morning.

Ellie is gone by the time Rosalie wakes the next morning. Jasper doesn’t tell her; he was drinking coffee when Rosalie came out of her bedroom and the couch was back in place.

“She left ….” Rosalie said. She felt … a little disappointed. She knew she had meant for this to happen, but it still seemed almost too ... abrupt. Rosalie had wanted to say good-bye at least.

Jasper inclined his head and gave a shrug. “She booked a hostel room for tonight.” He explained.

Rosalie felt a sharp stab of guilt, but tried to convince herself that she wasn’t allowed to feel bad about her words now. She’d said it, and she meant it.

But regardless, she couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie’s surprisingly sweet eyes, with long lashes, against her broad, handsome face. “I didn’t mean to chase her off.” She found herself saying, and she was almost surprised at how soft she sounded.

“Yes, you did.” Jasper told her calmly. Rosalie glared at him intently, making sure he wasn’t mocking her. But he seemed quiet, sipping his mug. “I’m still going to keep in touch; she’s a nice girl.” He told her.

“She is!” Rosalie agreed, angry, or upset. “But I’m engaged, cowboy, and I wouldn’t let a man with a crush on me stay at our house either!” Rosalie continued, feeling her heartbeat speed up and her angry boil over. Everything was going wrong. “It’s not fair to Royce. Has he asked you to be his best man, already!?” She demanded.

Jasper looked taken aback, not as her anger but her words. Almost immediately, he wrinkles his nose. “No, I don’t actually - where are you going!?” He shouts as Rosalie takes a dramatic dive for her keys.

“I’ve had enough of this shit!” Rosalie’s voice comes out a scream as she blindly shoulders on her coat and marches to her car.

She speeds the entire way to Royce’s apartment, her anger at herself fueling her. She was guilty that she’d driven the big sweet woman away, and she was also furious that at the start of this shitty day, her fiancé couldn’t even have invited her brother to be his best man already!

She marches up to the apartment, and bangs on the door loudly.

“Wha-babe! What are you doing here?” Royce was only in a towel, and looked bewildered, eyes comically wide. Rosalie would have mocked him about being so freaked over seeing his own fiancée, but she was too furious at him. Some of their wedding stuff was scattered on the table; the cake-topper; a bride dragging her groom down the alter; Royce’s mother thought it was hilarious. Rosalie thought it was tacky but the mother-in-law was paying for it. But Rosalie had left the cake topper at her maid-of-honor’s house.

She can’t dwell on that, though, because she was too busy being angry with him. “I can’t believe that you haven’t asked my brother to - what are those?” She asks. There were a pair of fashionnova heels under the coffee table. Rosalie never wore anything so cheap-looking.

Royce cringed. “Honey-” He began, but Rosalie realized in the same moment that his shower was still running.

She marched over to the bedroom and straight to the en suite.

Royce stammered after her, but she’d thrown the door open by the time he caught up.

Lauren was in a towel; pressed against the side of the bathroom wall as though she was trying to hide. Rosalie rolled her eyes, and snapped a picture of the woman on her phone.

She shoved past Royce, who tried to grab her arm until she shook him off harder. He was yammering on and Rosalie focused on pulling up Royce’s mother’s contact. She forwarded the picture to her, and then sucked on her left ring finger. Sufficiently damp, she pulls the engagement ring off as she reaches the front door.

“Just give me a chance!” Royce exclaims, panting hard.

“No.” Rosalie replies, and tosses the ring behind him. It was the only thing about them she was sad to see go.

She turned on her heel and left, and she knew Royce wasn’t going to follow her in nothing but a towel.

She drives home with a surprisingly amount of calm washing over her. She felt a little lighter, as though her heart wasn’t so heavy. She went to Dairy Queen and got a milkshake on the trip back to her apartment.

Jasper wasn’t in the kitchen when she got home, but she could hear his deep voice through his open door.

“Hey,” She said, sticking her head into his room. She wasn’t too surprised to find Archie there, though his face looked very pale. “Hiya.” She said to him.

The little man frowned, his pretty hands fluttering. “As the florist for your wedding, I usually deal with the mother of the bride, but you chose to let the mother of the groom handle it and-”

“Oh!” Rosalie could have laughed. “The picture.” She said, recalling her admittedly hasty idea of revenge.

“I’m so sorry, Rosie.” Archie piped up; face crumpled in sympathy. Jasper was standing in front of him, arms crossed and face carefully blank. Archie must have come over and just told him about what had happened.

Rosalie walked in and climbed on the bed, taking the side Archie wasn’t sitting on and lying down. “I don’t think I was in love with him.” She announced to the room. The words rang out in the ensuing silence. “You don’t usually feel … better, after something like this.” She mused aloud.

“Guess that answers the question about there still being a wedding ….” Jasper said, almost chuckling. Rosalie shrugged, stabbing her straw through the remnants of her shake.

“Rosalie, you got cheated on and then got a milkshake ….” Archie pointed out.

Rosalie looked at her strawberry milkshake stupidly. She felt a little out of touch of the moment; the events of this morning hadn’t sunk in yet. “Maybe it hadn’t hit me yet?” She offered by way of explanation.

Archie hummed absently, looking thoughtful.

“That doesn’t sound like you.” Jasper told her. Rosalie nodded again; she never really needed a recovery time on shock. Her emotions exploded through her very quickly. When the doctor told her father and her about her mother and baby brother’s death, Rosalie had collapsed wailing on the floor before her father could gasp.

A bleak realization dawned. “You didn’t really love him at all, did you?” Archie asked her, sounding still sad.

“Guess not,” Rosalie said with a shrug. That was a little disappointing as Rosalie looked back on all the wedding planning that had been for naught. All her energy and effort and valuable time - wasted.

“You knew, didn’t you?” She asked her brother. He was surprisingly good with sussing out feelings. Observant.

Jasper shook his head, though. “I never liked him, but you seemed to.” He replied steadily. “You looked happy whenever he was around, like when you got your Berkin bag.” Jasper explained.

Rosalie snorted. “You think my future husband is going to make me feel like a new handbag.” Rosalie said tonelessly; not sure if she was entirely offended by her brother’s assumption about her shallowness. Frankly, the feelings for her had been similar.

Jasper just shrugged. “I trust you.” He answered simply.

Those words cut her more than her materialism. “You shouldn’t have.” She told him. “I don’t even know what I was thinking ….” She knew she should be more hurt about Royce; but she had a sneaking suspicion that even after the shock wore off; she still might not feel it. “I never know what I’m thinking.” Rosalie says softly.

Archie gasps. “Yes you do!” He argued. “You’re one of the most opinionated people I know!” He continues loyally.

Rosalie hummed, glancing at him. “You make me sound bossy.” She said, now feeling slightly resentful.

“Yeah!” Archie agreed cheerfully.

Rosalie huffed out a laugh despite herself. She thought back on the boys she’d been with. “I never know about boys,” Rosalie said softly, her chest starting to feel tight and her nerves jumping up. “I was just guessing and then Royce was there ….”

“You liked him enough, once.” Archie considered, frowning a little and watching her face closely.

But Rosalie was more troubled at his words. “I liked that all my friends wanted him.” She said softly. “I liked that everyone thought I was so lucky ….” Rosalie always liked being appreciated and admired. And she felt like that with Royce.

“You were always talking about boys. I used to sit at the door and listen. Thought you always had bad taste.” Jasper chuckled a little, but his eyes seemed disquieted.

Rosalie felt a pang in her heart, then, at the image of a lonely, younger Jasper sitting outside of her closed bedroom door, wanting in and not being able to bridge the gap. For a moment, she feels an urge, an old urge, to thank him for coming out; for sharing such a vulnerable part of himself so they could support him as his family. So that he didn’t have to hide anymore.

And Rosalie thought back to all those sleepovers, all those hours spent giggling over boys. She near always agreed with whatever was said the loudest, if just to shut up the girl in question. “Did I?” She asks the ceiling. “I felt like I just agreed with everyone else and repeated what they said. I don’t know if I meant any of it.” Rosalie knew how she’d been in high school too – mean, so damn mean, and so willing to stomp down anyone to make herself feel big.

Jasper’s eyes seemed to be peering through her. “What are you trying to say now?” He asks her quietly.

Rosalie lets the silence stretch on for a moment, to gather her thoughts. But even trying to sort them, she could barely figure where her train of thought started. “What does attraction feel like?” She asks the roof again. But it embarrasses her to say it aloud, and she covers her eyes with her hand. “Jesus - I feel like a robot.”

Archie gives a weak shrug; looking, of all things, bashful. He was never one for public things; not necessarily closeted, but private and shy.

“... Like …” Jasper mused, leaning down to wrap his arms around Archie, “come here, you,” he murmured, pulling the smaller man up against him. Archie laughed a little, and Jasper tucked his head onto the man’s insubstantial shoulder. “Content, around him. I wouldn’t ever mind if it was just the two of us,” He said.

She was touched, really, with the idea of what they said. And happy enough for them. “Huh … I never wanted to be alone with Royce, it annoyed me.” She sighs, feeling a very real sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. “He always just used privacy to fuck me.”

Jasper grunts, but Archie’s words come quickly; “Whenever he comes home, I feel like home came back to me.”

The sweet words were lost on Rosalie. She shook her head. “I like when Royce was gone - at least when I was talking to him on the phone, he couldn’t ignore me.” Rosalie remembered all the face-to-face conversations, and how they could go. Usually, Royce was pulled onto his phone; some stupid game, his fantasy football teams … and then Rosalie may as well have been talking to the goddamn wind.

“My god, Dutch,” Jasper’s voice was harsh, and nearly angry, “are you serious?”

Rosalie nodded, her hands still over her eyes; and she was ashamed, so deeply humiliated, she almost felt like she could cry.

“Oh my gosh! You really didn’t love him at all!” Archie gasps, and the bed bounces a little as he crawls over to her. Rosalie lifts her hand away from her face and looks up at his miserable expression. “I’m so sorry honey; arranging your bouquet, as though everything was right with the world!” He scolds, shaking his head in disappointment.

“It’s not your fault, darlin’.” Jasper’s hand came and clasped the other’s man’s shoulder. “Dodged a bullet, though.” His tone was not relieved, and Rosalie twists her neck to look at him, still leaning against the headboard. His gaze was stern, and Archie sits back against him with a frown.

Rosalie doesn’t particularly feel as though anything was coming crashing down. She’d just called off her entire wedding; and her main concern was how much of her deposits she’d get back after cancelling. She sat up on the bed, and absently petting down her mussed hair. “I need to tell Ellie.” She says, nodding slightly.

Ellie should know; Rosalie was the one who chased her off after all. All for a man who wasn’t even loyal to her. Even though knowing Ellie appreciated her; how she looked and what she looked like, made her feel better than any of the expensive trinkets Royce had ever given her. Including that stupid engagement ring.

Archie’s frown went from sad to confused. He exchanged an uneasy look with Jasper, who shrugs. “Why?” Jasper asks. “You need to tell your dad.”

Rosalie shook her head. “She needs to know!” She found herself insisting. “I know I made her feel bad about-”

“She’s left.” Archie says quickly, looking worried. “I called her an Uber for the airport and then Mrs King called me to scrap the weddin’.” He explained.

“Then I’m going to Tennessee!” Rosalie snapped, flinging herself off the bed and marching into her room for her suitcase.

“This is nuts,” Jasper says as he merges into the drop-off area of the domestic terminal. “This is insane.” He insists as he parks.

“This is _so_ romantic!” Archie gushes, hands clasped under his chin.

Rosalie ignored both of them as she climbs out of the car. “I’ll be back by Monday – just remember to tell Tanya my weddings called off and I need time, or something.” She reminds them.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening.” Jasper replies, and Rosalie slams the car door in his face.

“Go get her, Dutch!” Archie hollers out the window, fist pumped in the air.

Rosalie had dressed to the nines to go to McCarthy Mechanical Services. She had passed by enough hikers in her 4-inch heels to get a few strange looks. But she needed to do it; she had to look her best because it made her feel her best.

The garage was a large corrugated iron structure. There was no other signage aside from the shop name above the door. _Running Up That Hill_ wafted from the radio, and it made her feel raw.

She rapped her knuckles on the counter, and two burly curly-headed men stared at her.

They both looked a lot like Ellie; broad pleasant faces and one of them had the exact same nose.

The one that didn’t whacked the other over the head. “Hey! You’re married!” He said with a thick accent. The other gasped and cradled his hand to his chest, the ring barely glinting. Rosalie could ignore the stares; she was used to them.

“I know!” He argued, before flashing Rosalie a bright grin that was so like Ellie’s that Rosalie felt herself smiling back. “What can we do you for?” He asked brightly.

“Not you,” Rosalie tells them both eagerly, making them frown. “I’m here for your sister, Ellie.” She explains.

At this, the men share an uneasy look. “Well, she’s a bit busy being a couch potato.” The married one said, before took a step behind him. “But I’ll see if she’ll wander.” He added, walking away.

The remaining one looked at her curiously. “You one of the New York friends she made up there when she got her tits chopped off?” He asked her.

Rosalie inclined her head. “She came back sad.” He told her, and Rosalie didn’t reply.

The man came back down, shaking his head sadly.

“Won’t do.” He explained apologetically.

Rosalie frowned, and tried not to let her stomach sink. This was her fault, she had to make it right. “Will you let me come up?” She pressed.

They exchanged a look, and the married one crossed his arms. “We’re a beacon for small-town hospitality,” he told her, “but we don’t know you.” He added sternly.

Rosalie nodded, and that should have been good enough for her. But it wasn’t because it was Ellie. “Please,” she said quietly.

They muttered between each other, and finally they looked back at her. “What did you do?” He asked her.

She didn’t bother playing innocent. “I lied, I hurt her. I just want to make it right.” She explained.

But the change was palpable. All of sudden, both seemingly friendly men were harsh and solid. In unison, they crossed their arms and stared her down. “Nuh-uh, lady, you hurt our sister,” he growls, “you deal with us.”

The other that was married shook his head, and shooed at her. “You go on home now; I don’t think you have business here.” He says, and it was the stance and tone of two men who had seen a strange girl grow up in a small town.

Helpless, defeated, under the eyes of furiously protective brothers reminding her so much of her own, Rosalie does go.

* * *

Rosalie swirled her margarita around in its glass as she slouched over the bar. Jasper and Archie were having a great time; slinking around each other on the dance floor. They’d probably shuffle her home with them sooner rather than later. Or they’ll tell her when they were leaving, and protest that she should stay and have fun when she left with them.

Coming out was supposed to be a celebration, Jasper argued, and Rosalie would usually be inclined to agree, but she just felt stagnant. At least when she was under the impression that she was straight she’d been engaged, and planning her wedding. She’d not warmed up to the idea of dating around even if the chances of her being really attracted to who she was dating had increased. But perhaps that made her the stereotypical u-hauler. She was a ‘relationship’ girl; exclusive, faithful, monogamous girl. What she was seeing in the clubs was not what she wanted.

She wanted Ellie. She always had; Ellie with her kind eyes and dimples and thick wrists. Rosalie had sent her a painfully idiotic voicemail; apologizing, coming out, trying desperately to articulate how _sacrilegious_ it was for her to ever make Ellie feel less then desired and adored by her. She’d blown her chance with that woman, and it served her right. Now, all she could do was carry around her likeness in her preferences forever.

Archie danced his fingers up her spine. “We’re headin’ out, Duchess!” He declared with a shimmy of his hips.

“Sounds good.” She agreed, standing up and trotted after him as he bounced and slid towards the door. Jasper was waiting there, and took Rosalie’s elbow as they stepped out.

“I’ll drop you off home and head to Archie’s, Dutch.” He explained, and for a strange moment, Rosalie got the distinct impression he was laughing at her. But she inclined her head as Archie waved at their Uber.

The ride was in silence; after Archie asked her if she enjoyed herself at all, and Rosalie told him that she did, she just wasn’t feeling up to much more tonight.

“Well, we’re leavin’ you be!” Archie declared, and erupted into a peal of drunken giggles. Rosalie chalked it up to the couple’s usual tight-lipped nature of their sexual activities. So she didn’t pay it much mind when Jasper shushed him sharply.

Rosalie led the way up the stairs, and Jasper bopped a kiss onto the back of her head as she walked inside of the apartment.

“Bye, Ellie!” Archie called, and the door closed on them both as Rosalie whirled around to stare at him.

“What – so quick!” The deep voice rumbled through Rosalie’s chest, and throbbed straight in between her legs. It was Ellie.

Rosalie turned to her, seeing the woman blinking at her, before beaming.

“Surprise!” Ellie declared, and Rosalie pulled her into a tight hug before she could do anything else.

“I missed you!” Rosalie breathed, and grasped her tighter when Ellie’s hands slid up and down her back. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I made you leave!” She blurted out.

Ellie chuckled, nose wrinkling. “That’s alright! I had to go home eventually.”

“I’m sorry I said you were making me uncomfortable.” Rosalie insisted, but Ellie shook her head again, opening her mouth to refute Rosalie’s apology again. “I was only uncomfortable about how attracted to you I am!” She said. At that, Ellie’s mouth snapped shut, and her ears flushed red.

“… Me too.” Ellie muttered gently, and Rosalie brought their faces closer together again. “I wanted to show you why I went hospital.” Ellie said, and nodded towards Rosalie’s bedroom. “Can I show you?” She asked nicely, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Rosalie bobbed her head, feeling her stomach flutter as Ellie took her hand and led her into her room. “I always wanted to do it.” Ellie said, and with no aplomb with took off her shirt and turned to Rosalie.

She had nothing on underneath; except for the two thin pink scars under her pectorals. Rosalie reached out hesitantly, and Ellie didn’t move back, as she trailed her fingers across her flat chest.

“Lovely.” Rosalie managed, swallowing hard. “You’re so lovely.” She continued, not breaking her gaze from Ellie’s deep brown eyes. Ellie smiled, looking very tender, as she stepped up to Rosie and kissed her nose.

“You don’t need to keep apologizing Rosie; you were hurting, I used to as well.” Ellie promises, taking Rosalie’s hand and pressing Rosalie’s right palm to the middle of her chest. “Sometimes it still hurts, but I like the way I am, even if a lot of people don’t.” Ellie explained.

“I _love_ the way you are.” Rosalie promises her, and Ellie takes both of her hips in her broad hands, pulling her flush against her.

“I’m a one-woman woman, Rosie.” Ellie cautions her, and Rosalie nods happily, thrilled that she had the opportunity to memorize the faint splatter of freckles across Ellie’s nose.

“Be mine, please, be mine.” Rosalie whispered, knowing she was begging, knowing that she didn’t care. Ellie wrapped her tightly in a hug and didn’t mind the claws Rosalie was sure she was digging into her back.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy last day of Pride Month!!!! I have been playing around with this for the last year and I'm pretty happy how it turned out! Jasper will be getting a companion piece later on.


End file.
